Priorities
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: After winning the championship, Randy has become distant. It's taking its toll on his relationship with Mark. Can it be saved, or is it too late? Mark/Randy, Mark/Mike. For SlipKid13 and BlackDiamonds.32.20.54!
1. Chapter 1

_Title: Priorities_

_Rated: T (Teen)_

_Genre(s): Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Drama_

_Pair(s): Mark/Randy, Mark/Mike_

_Summary: After winning the championship, Randy has become distant. It's taking its toll on his relationship with Mark. Will it be saved, or is it too late?_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, besides my OCs._

_Warning: Slash!_

_A/N: This is for SlipKid13 and BlackDiamonds.32.20.54, who both requested a Mark/Randy story._

_Part 1/3_

**OOOO**

"I fuckin' hate you! You hear me? I _hate_ you!" Bethany slammed her bedroom door closed in her father's face, before the infuriation and disappointment settled in her stomach like lead.

Randy knew that he had seriously messed up this time. No matter how badly he'd screw up in the past, no matter how many times he missed important events in his life because of work, his daughter had always believed in him. So, how did all of that belief, that _adoration_, turn into hatred? It didn't take much, but it was enough. And now, not only did his beloved daughter hate him, but she was also injured. Mark had had to carry her into the house because of her knee, and know she couldn't dance for a month.

You see, Bethany had been in the middle of her recital, when she looked out into the crowd in search of her father. But when she found his seat vacant, the distraction had caused her to stumble and land awkwardly on her knee cap. It had also cost her first _and_ second place. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of abandonment that her father had left her with. She had told him months in advance, and he had promised that he would be there. But when it came time to deliver, he just couldn't…

"I'm… sorry, Bethie?" He tried, knowing that it wouldn't work even before the words left his mouth.

"Save it!" Came the cry from inside the bedroom. "Ever since you've had that stupid belt, you've turned into a real-life heel. And don't try to make excuses. You know it's the truth."

"Hey!" He beat down on the door. "You will _not_ talk to me like that, Bethany Hart Orton-Calaway! You will speak to me with respect, or you won't speak to me at all!"

"Fine by me!" Bethany hissed, before she went silent.

Well, that backfired. Randy knew that things had been different ever since he had obtained the belt, but he didn't think that things had changed _this_ drastically. Hesitantly, he tried to knock once more. The only response he received was silence. And then, the muffled sound of a sob. Dammit! It seemed that, as of late, all he was good at was hurting the people close to him. Worried, but knowing that that worry would be ill-received, he resigned to come back later and check in on the teen.

"Bethie, I'm… I'm gonna head downstairs. If you need somethin', just let me know, OK? Don't hesitate to ask." Randy said, but once again it was met with silence.

He did exactly that. Slowly, he entered the kitchen and watched Mark fix himself a cup of coffee. He looked more tired than he usually did, and that was probably the reason for the cup of coffee at this hour. Green eyes looked up and met his ocean blues, but no words were exchanged. Mark was a master of the silent treatment, and it looked as if Randy was going to be on the receiving end tonight. Once, he had gone ten days without saying a word. Randy still had a crick in his neck from the week and a half on the couch.

"Mark?" The Deadman raised an eyebrow to show that he was listening. "I'm sorry that I missed the recital, and dinner, and…" he trailed off. He was almost certain that there was more, but he couldn't remember.

Green eyes narrowed at him.

"Um… well, there was that conference at Bethie's school, but I doubt you'd be mad at me 'bout missing that. And I already apologized for missing the recital and dinner. Was there anything else important?"

The corner of his mouth pulled down.

"Y'know, Mark, it's kinda hard to have a one-sided conversation. If you could, oh I don't know, add some input here… it would be greatly appriciated." Randy said.

One green eye twitched.

"Mark?" Randy was really worried now.

"Our anniversary, Orton. Our fifteenth anniversary." Mark said, his voice abnormally calm.

Randy felt like a royal ass. How could he have forgotten their _fifteeth anniversary_? It wasn't like he had forgotten the other fourteen. And he had treated it like it was some second-rate holiday, not even worthy of being celebrated. He was digging his own grave here, and he knew it. Even if Mark didn't look upset on the outside, he knew that he was. He knew his lover well enough to know when he was hurt, even if the older man didn't know himself. Mark took a slow sip of his coffee, before he started for the stairs.

"But it doesn't matter, Orton. It's obvious where your priorities lie." Mark said, before he rounded the corner to their bedroom. "G'night."

The last thing Randy heard was the slam of the door and the click of a bolt.

**OOOO**

"I'm heading over to Carrie's house. I should be home by five." Bethany announced as she came downstairs, her knee covered in her brand-new Ace brace.

"Have fun." Mark mumbled, before Bethany kissed him on the cheek.

Randy sat on the other couch, as far away from Mark as possible. It wasn't his fault. Mark had choosen to sit on the other couch to watch television, and even though it was set on a channel that he knew Mark hated, the older man refused to ask him for the remote. It was Phase Two of Mark's silent treatment: Avoid and Ignore. This phase lasted about a week, before Mark would eventually get over it. However, Randy had learned from Glen that there was, in fact, a Phase _Three_. Phase Three: Leave. Randy knew he needed to fix things before they got that bad.

Bethany hesitated, looking for all the world like a lost puppy. Should she say goodbye to her other father as well? And then she remembered how he had abandoned her last night, how he had _promised_ to be there and just couldn't pull through. And even if it was a little vindictive, maybe it was his turn to be disappointed. With her decision made, she walked out of the room and pulled on her coat. Taking her wallet and stuffing it into her coat pocket, she walked out the front door and started down the road to her Uncle's house.

"Mark." Randy turned to his husband, and was a tad disheartened when the older man didn't turn at the sound of his name. "I am so, _so_ sorry that I forgot our anniversary. I never meant to make you think that it didn't mean something to me."

Mark didn't even flinch.

Randy frowned, this was so _awkward_. He wasn't used to pouring his heart and soul out like this, and on the rare occasion that he did, it was never ignored so blatantly. "Mark, _please_…"

The older man continued to stare at the television.

"Baby," Mark's eye twitched at the term of endearment, and Randy worried that he had gone a little heavy on the pleading. "Please, don't ignore me anymore. I can't take it. It _hurts_. And I know that I hurt you, I know that you must've felt abandoned… because I feel that way now. Please… just tell me that we can move past this."

Mark tilted his head to the side, looking for all the world like he was in deep thought. But a few seconds later, Randy realized that he was just concentrating harder on a T.V. commercial.

"_Mark_…" he would never admit that it came across as a whine.

That was when his lover snapped. He rose from his seat without a word, conquering the stairs in record time. And then, wait for it… the customary door slam that told Randy that Mark was beyond furious. There should be an entirely different level of anger invented for this situation. Randy sunk into the couch cushions, dejected. Never before had his charm not only failed him, but also put him in a worse situation then he was in before. Maybe Bethany was right. Maybe he had turned into a real-life heel…

**OOOO**

Bethany came back at 4:59 PM. Only, this time, Mark was the only one downstairs to greet her. Randy had left an hour ago, not leaving any indication of where he was going and when he was coming back. The fifteen-year-old used the barstool in front of the island counter as her foot stool, lifting herself onto the counter and taking a seat. She took an apple out of the bowl of fruit and took a bite, the bittersweet juice like rain in the desert to her dry mouth. Mark just watched, amused, as she finished the whole fruit in record time and tossed it in the wastebasket.

"I feel bad." Bethany announced, after a few moments of silence. Silently, she flicked a few locks of black hair out from in front of her face. "I mean, he did say that he was sorry. And he did look really sad this morning."

"He's not sorry. They never are." Mark muttered, the comment not really meant for her ears.

"What d'you mean?" Bethany asked, honestly confused.

Mark closed the book he had been reading, a serious look on his face. "Nothing. It doesn't matter and it never did."

"You can't mean -,"

Green eyes widened, and a harsh voice snapped, "Don't say it!"

Bethany flinched back involuntarily, and the action almost caused her to roll off of the counter. Mark's hand caught her arm before she could fall, however. "Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry I upset you."

"It's OK, baby. Just do me a favor and don't turn into a klutz all of a sudden, OK?"

"Yes, Daddy."

It was then that a car pulled up in the front driveway. The engine was cut, before a tall man stepped out with two armfuls of paper grocery bags. Mark, noticing this, had taken to reading again. He was so preoccupied in the plot line that he didn't even notice his lover come in, set the bags on the dining room table, and walk over to the two of them. Bethany watched him for a few seconds, before she slid off of the counter and ran for the staircase as fast as her injured leg would carry her. She didn't want to be here for this confrontation.

"Hey." Randy said meekly. Mark raised one dark eyebrow, but didn't respond. "Will you just answer one question?"

Mark raised an eyebrow to show that he was listening.

"Do you still love me?"

**OOOO**

_A/N: I know… but I had to end it there. I hope y'all like the story so far, and I hope y'all will review! More reviews make me want to write faster, y'know! Well, anyway… until next time, then!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Title: Priorities_

_Rated: T (Teen)_

_Genre(s): Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Drama_

_Pair(s): Mark/Randy, Mark/Mike_

_Summary: Ever since Randy has become World Heavyweight Champion, he has become distant and it is affecting his relationship with Mark. Can he save it before it is too late?_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, only my OCs._

_Warning: Slash!_

_Part: 2/3_

**OOOO**

Mark looked at him as if he had obtained three heads.

Suddenly, he slammed his novel closed and slid it across the island counter. It didn't intrest him anymore. And then, it became a staring contest between Mark and Randy. The Deadman and The Legend Killer. Randy wasn't about to cave first – he _needed_ to know that there was a chance to save this, to save _them_. But Mark certainly wasn't going to make it easy on him. He shouldn't have expected differently, truth be told. Randy had had to pursue him for _months_ before he even considered a date. And that was most likely out of self-preservation.

And then, Mark did the unthinkable. He broke off their impromptu staring contest first, and walked away. He admited that there was no chance, that there was no love… not anymore. It was only a matter of time before Mark left him and took Bethany with him. Randy couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't _breath_. All he could do was watch the man he loved walked away from him. There was a certain resolution in his walk, and his head was down. The dark curls that Randy so loved hid his beloved's face when he needed to see those emerald eyes the most, and it broke his heart.

The door slammed upstairs. The sound was too final to his ears. He simply stared up the staircase, unable to move. But then, his eyes flickered over to the door beside it. Carefully painted letters revealed this to be Bethany's bedroom. He had seen the teen retire there shortly before he asked Mark that question… shortly before he had received that cold-hearted denial. Randy turned around and ruffled through the grocery bags that he had brought in from the car, his efforts producing a bouquet of roses. Maybe there was a chance that he could still fix what he had with Bethany…

**OOOO**

"Bethany, sweetheart?" Randy gently knocked on the door, not wanting to wake her up if she had already drifted off to sleep. "Are you awake, sweetie?"

"What do you want?" Bethany hissed, her voice so low he had to strain to hear it.

"Can I come in?"

"Do you have to?"

Randy flinched a little at the teen's bitter response, but continued to soldier on. "Yeah. I think that we need to talk about what happened yesterday. But I won't come in unless you say that I can."

There were a few moments of silence. Randy seriously thought that she was going to exploit the fact that he valued her privacy and wouldn't force himself inside. But then, he heard the long scratch of velcro as she put her knee brace back on. The mattress creaked as she slid down to the floor, and the sharp slap of bare feet on the wooden floor echoed in the silence. The click of the lock, and then her door was open. She didn't wait for him to come in. She simply threw herself down onto her bed and waited. Randy sat down on the end of the bed beside her, mindful of her bad knee.

"Well?" Bethany hissed, her eyes fixed on the stars painted on her ceiling.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry, baby. I know that no amount of 'I'm sorrys' will ever make this 100% better, but I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it." Randy held the flowers behind his back, and Bethany had not noticed them. "You don't know how _pissed_ I was that work once again got in the way of my time with you and your father. I never meant to miss it. And I'm sorry that you were hurt – emotionally _and_ physically – because of my inability to say no and walk away."

He handed her the roses, and her eyes widened considerably. "Y-You got me roses?"

"I meant to give them to you that night, but since I couldn't be there, I figured that they would be better late than never. Do you like them?"

"They're beautiful."

Bethany slid off of the bed once more and walked over to set the bouquet on her dresser. There was a vase there, which she would use to put the flowers in later. When she turned back to Randy, there was a look of uncertainty on her pretty face. Absently, she tucked a stray black hair behind her ear. She looked to be contemplating something important, and Randy wished that he could see inside her head just this once. And then she flashed him a shy, uncertain smile. Randy knew that this was his opening, and he should capitalize on it before the door closed.

"Thank you."

"Baby…" Randy looked at her, uncertainty in his eyes. "Is there still time for that father-daughter dance?"

"B-But…" Bethany motioned to her knee, which was still encased in that bulky brace. "I can't dance. Or, at least I can't dance _well_. The teacher said I wouldn't be able to compete for a month."

"Just come here and let me take the lead."

Then, Randy lifted her up so that her feet were on top of his. Bethany felt like she was in the first grade again, learning to dance for the first time. And just like that, they waltzed around the room. They didn't need music, they didn't need a large audience to clap for them when they had finished. It was simply the father-daughter dance that Bethany had been cheated out of at her recital, and she loved every minute of it. Sure enough, a few minutes in, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Randy hadn't realized how much he had missed this ever since he became champion…

He had lost track of how much time they had been dancing, but he knew that he still had one more question to ask his daughter before he let her go to bed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, just like he used to do before she went to sleep. His daughter reacted brilliantly, turning her head toward him with trust-filled eyes. He was glad to see that her trust was not so easily lost. And as he looked over her face, he knew that there would be no-one better for the job he had in mind than Bethany. The Princess of Darkness would help him to win Mark back.

"Bethany, I can't seem to convey to your father that I'm sorry for what I did and that he means the world to me -,"

Bethany cut him off. "He's hard-headed."

"…and I was wondering if you could help me win him over?"

Bethany's exhaustion-darkened eyes widened, before a smile broke out on her face. She nodded quickly. "I know just the thing."

**OOOO**

Mark sat on the bed in the bedroom he used to share with Randy. Did he still love The Legend Killer, The Apex Predator, The Viper? He took a breath and held it. Of course he did. There was no use denying it when no-one was around. Even their daughter knew the truth, but Randy didn't. In fact, the other man had looked so broken by his silence that it had almost shattered Mark's resolve. _Almost_. Mark wasn't about to submit, not this late in the game. Randy could say that he loved him all he wanted, but now, he would have to show it.

It was then that he pulled out a picture that he hadn't looked at in months, borderline one year. It was a picture of him with Mike 'The Miz' Mizanin. Before the boy had been famous, when he was just a jobber trying to claw his way to the top, he and Mark had been in a relationship. It was the first time that Mark had been able to fully open his heart to anyone, and sure enough, it got broken. Badly. The Miz became famous and left him behind, lost and confused. Now, he was back with Kevin after the little fued The Miz had had with Alex Riley.

Without thought, Mark tossed the picture into the trash can. He had no need for it anymore. All it showed was a memory that broke his heart, and he already had a present situation doing the same. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past. With that said, he turned off the lamp on the bedside table and watched as the entire room was flooded with darkness. And he burrowed down beneath the blankets, his back to the trashcan with the picture of yesterday in it. And with that, he tried (and somehow managed) to fall into a dreamless sleep.

**OOOO**

**A/N: Well, that's 2/3! What d'you think that Randy's gonna do to make it up to the Deadman? **

**Note 1: I'm still taking suggestions for when I finish this story. If you have any ideas that you want to see, name them and a specific pairing and I'll do my best to write them!**

**Note 2: Personally, I would **_**love**_** it if someone wrote a Jeff Hardy/Bobby Roode story. The feud that they have going on right now is priceless. But it would be nice if the story focused on how selfish Bobby is being now that he is TNA World Heavyweight Champion, how this behavior is hurting Jeff, and shocking Bobby out of his selfish ways.**

**As always, review! They make me want to write faster!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Priorities

**Rated:** T (Teen)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Pair(s):** Mark/Randy, Mark/Mike

**Summary:** After winning the championship, Randy has become distant. It's taking its toll on his relationship with Mark. Will it be saved, or is it too late?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides my OCs.

**Warning:** Slash

**Part:** 3/3

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long to update! My Mark muse was totally shot. Hope this makes up for it!

**OOOO**

Mark looked around in amazement. The normal off-white curtains had been taken down and switched out with curtains made of black lace. They were drawn to the side just a bit to reveal an ornate, silver candelabrum that held four tall, black candles. The table had been pushed up against the wall, and it had been covered in a black tablecloth. A three course dinner rested in various places on the surface, and he could smell dessert in the oven. Green eyes flickered over to Randy, who stood nervously in the corner. Had he done all of this?

Hesitantly, he walked over and took a seat. Randy did the same. An uncomfortable silence settled over them, neither wanting to be the first to break it. So, they simply started to eat. The food was absolutely delicious – that was Mark's first clue as to the fact that Randy had had help with all of this. The last time he had left Randy alone in the kitchen, he had almost burned the house down. Needless to say, the first time had been the _last_ time. But Mark really didn't mind the fact that he had had help. At least he had made an effort.

"Um… Mark?" The Deadman raised a dark eyebrow, his attention still fixed on the food in front of him. "I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry that I forgot our anniversary. I never meant to hurt you like that."

Mark nodded, before he started to cut off a piece of steak. "I know."

Randy's eyes widened. Mark was finally talking to him! But then the fear started to grow as well. What if he said something to mess this up? "And I understand if you don't forgive me. I just hope that you do."

"Listen, let's just cut to the chase." Mark said. He was never one to dwell on his emotions, after all. "You hurt me, so therefore I felt the need to retaliate and hurt you back. That being said, I should have never left you hanging like that. You deserve an answer."

"Do you still love me, Mark?" Randy was almost afraid to ask.

"Yeah. I love you." Randy knew that those words did not come easily to Mark, and that it meant a lot for him to say them. "Would I be sitting here, eating dinner with you at… one o' clock in the morning if I didn't?"

"I guess not." Randy smiled.

They went back to eating their meal, occasionally making small talk, the uncomfortable silence now broken. Randy felt at ease for the first time in the last few days, knowing that his husband loved him and that they would make it through this. Honestly, he didn't know what he would do without Mark and Bethany. Without them, the World Heavyweight Belt was a cold victory. But with them, it was like he was a totally different man. There wasn't a moment of the day that he wasn't thankful for his family.

"So… we're OK now, right?" Randy asked tentatively.

Mark nodded. "Yeah. We're just fine."


End file.
